


Blakk Family Values

by TheCalamity_Killy



Series: Babylon Thrum [4]
Category: Slugterra
Genre: Babylon Thrum, Drabble Anthology, F/M, Family, Gen, Humor, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 18:47:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7118131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCalamity_Killy/pseuds/TheCalamity_Killy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The (mis)adventures of Thaddius Blakk attempting to fit into married life and fatherhood with a pair of unruly boys, one of whom he can barely understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dawn Rising

**Author's Note:**

> I posted these as a part of the big drabble collection for Babylon Thrum, but a bud of mine thought they were getting numerous enough to require their own set. So here they are, on their own; they are no longer a part of the drabble collection they were in originally.  
> I am taking prompts for Dad-Thad from our postROTE storyline. They should be lighthearted, things you want to see out of Thad attempting to integrate married life and fatherhood. NO ANGST, I cannot stress that enough. I have Legacies Abroad and 100 Blinks for angst.

What was that?

At this hour of the morning, it was almost impressive to the old Pseudobane that he could coherently string the three words together. But it was for good reason.

Namely the bouncing ball of human child that had managed to squeeze its way between him and the sleek body of the Prussian he seemed doomed to share his life with. Willingly, of course, but doomed nonetheless.

One eye cracked open when the movement didn't stop, faint red glow from such cast across pallid flesh. Groggy dart to the source of the disturbance gave him the shorter frame of his son, soon to be the eldest of the brood, Xerxes.

"What do you want…" was grumbled out of the industrialist at the intrusive whelp, receiving nothing short of a scuttle out of him to sit at his elder's shoulders.

"You said I start learning the company today." There was a familiar tone in that young voice. Determined, ambitious… Of course, Thaddius would deny any accusation that it came from him, no matter how proud he actually felt about it.

"What time is it." More a demand than a question, still with a fog of grog on him.

"Uuuuh, five-thirty in the morning…"

One clawed hand reached up, fingers grasping the bridge of his nose carefully. It was accompanied by a string of expletives, muffled behind the palm of his hand, things no child of five years should ever have to hear. With the storm gone, composure regained, he relaxed again.

"Wake me up in an hour."

The order was received with a shove to one shoulder. "You _told_ me to wake you up early."

"I didn't mean the ass-crack of dawn. Will you … jump on your mother for once?"

The pout was verbal in the boy's voice at hearing his father's irritation. "I did it once and an ankle cracked…"

Oh, he could feel that nasty little smirk spreading across her face at that. He knew how delicate the woman's ankles were and that even a small noise like the grinding of the joints could frighten a small child into never doing it again. Yes, War was certainly a devious woman, and not beneath using such effects to turn the tides in her favor.

Xerxes had proceeded to keep the elder's attention by poking him in the shoulder now. "And I have a bad hi— You are an obnoxious whelp of a child, Xerxes Blakk."

He could feel that same grin spreading across the boy's face, the one his mother likely sported now. "But I'm _your_ obnoxious whelp of a child."

It was here the 'slumbering' Prussian started to laugh under her breath, only confirming suspicions that she was anything but asleep the entire time. "He's got you zere…"

Faintly glowing gaze narrowed in her direction, lips thinned. "Shush, you. You're not helping in the least."


	2. Hiccups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> War comes down with the hiccups, prompting Thaddius to do anything possible to help her be rid of them.

The noise drew Thaddius from his musings with a start. What was that?

It sounded again, short and quiet, just barely above the audible register. Of course, his first instinct was to check under his desk. Anything that small had to have been a child, so said his reasoning. It was only natural the confusion when there were no eyes or small bodies to greet him on his checking.

That was when he remembered a certain Prussian was seated in the sitting area, pointedly reading her latest acquisition.

His head turned slowly to face her, a short moment of observation producing another small noise and a slight jerk of her upper body. That conniving crooked smirk crossed his face at it. The cane aided his advancement, telltale clinking against the bare marble tiles loud as he still managed to stalk-limp his way toward her.

She peered over her book at him, quirked eyebrow before attempting to resume it. Another small string of hiccups ensued, Thaddius slowly leaning over the top of her book to try and make eye contact.

"I thought I told you to stay out of the liquor cabinet." he poked, the amused rumble on his voice the only thing betraying his mood. "Although, I must say. I never expected such a tiny noise to come from someone like you…"

She huffed, abyssal gaze finding his red-ringed jade easily. "I'll sta **hic** ay out of ze liquor cabin **hic** net ven you start drinking." she retorted haughtily, redirecting her gaze back to her book. "Besides. I ma **hic** ake plenty of small noises. Und you know it just as mu **hic** uch as I do."

The cane head moved the book down via the spine at that. "Oh please. I am aware of every noise you're capable of. But if you could be so kind as to … I don't know … hold your breath or something of that nature and be rid of these particular ones, I would be grateful. They are just a smidge … distracting."

"I voul **hic** dn't if I could." She picked up a glass sitting nearby, empty. "Breath holding ne **hic** ever vorked, und I'm out of water." Up she rose, a wisp of silk and cut crystal pieces, heading for one of the doors into the inner workings of the monstrous Citadel. "But if it bot **hic** t'ers you so much, I'll go get more."

She was gone before he had a retort, but that was quite alright in his books. She hadn't even noticed that the smirk had widened to a grin, after all.

He'd been waiting in one of the darkened maintenance corridors, just out of sight. She hadn't been all that difficult to track; the sound of rabid hiccups was rather easy to pick up walking down the corridor. The first glimpse of shimmering blue was his cue, pushing what little Dark Water influence he still had control of to the fore.

The result was downright terrifying; he lit up the corridor in full red-pulsing form, teeth bared, and a snarling yell unleashed. He should have expected that she would hit him, and none too softly.

With a yell of surprise of her own, she dropped the drinking glass and above the sound of it shattering as it hit the floor, she had struck him with that devastating jab straight to the middle of his bowing face. It ended the indirect assault rather suddenly. Rather than lose any temper at it, he took it in stride.

"You would punch a Darkbane in the face, wouldn't you." he muttered around trying to make sure she hadn't broken his nose again.

Her concerns were toward something else, disregarding briefly his indirect praises. " _Verdammt_ , T'addius! Vat if I had been holding a feking veapon! You t'ink you vould haf learned after ze first time!"

"Yes. Well." He sniffed around the potential injury. "Nothing really broken this time. The most recent incarnation seems to be considerably more resilient than the second."

"I broke your nose ven you vere in _zis_ incarnation, you …you _scheissenkopf!_ "

"Your hiccups are gone." The sudden change in subject caused her to pause and make a small noise of acknowledgement. "I would say scaring you into action was worth it."

"You von't be able to smell anyt'ing ven zat starts swelling." she told him, starting to carefully round up the larger chunks of glass with a toe.

"Worth it."

No sooner had he said it, than the sound of another hiccup broke the air. It visibly raised the old Pseudobane's hackles, his head lowering as it snapped in the direction of the culprit. Xerxes had been passing by earlier in time to catch his mother's lost hiccups. To be fair, he looked terrified already at being caught with them.

Thaddius' eyes blazed with a sinister playfulness at the prospect of having new prey to chase. War only managed out a, "Run."

The boy took it, disappearing like a shot down one hall. The hulking industrialist was gone in the next second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hiccuped on a call at 4am. oops…
> 
> Thaddius being playful makes my life.  
> and yes, she just called him a shithead.
> 
> poor xerxes  
> he probably wont sleep for a week


	3. Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thaddius and Xerxes spend a brief afternoon moment together.

He had thought he heard one of the doors in the office open, the airy noise of the hydraulic hinges sounding once, then twice.

There was no other noise after it, though, which was what drew Thaddius' attention around to the cavernous room behind him. Red-ringed-green eyes scanned the space slowly and deliberately, trying to catch sight of anything [or anyone] out of place. When that proved fruitless, he came to the conclusion that maybe the door was malfunctioning. That would have to be the first order of business, calling in one of the maintenance crews to check on it and fix the problem, especially if one of the sensors was registering bodies that weren't there.

He rolled the plans he had been looking over into one hand and carried it with him toward his desk at the back wall, the clack of the stout metal cane echoing off the quiet chamber around him. The papers were deposited on the desktop, a hand reaching for the tablet plugged into the dock in one corner when something caught his attention.

A dull thumping noise, just loud enough to register, moving from one side of the room to the other.

He pulled his hand away slowly from the tablet, scanning the office again. Still nothing showed itself, but he had finally realized what might have been going on and through that decided that a maintenance crew was not needed. He lowered himself into his seat carefully, balanced partially on the desk with one hand, on the cane with the other, and turned to look at the papers he had brought with him, unrolling his redlines and stacking the specifications for them neatly for flicking through.

His inaction toward the intrusion proved more fruitful, but he was loathe to admit that even though he expected it, it surprised him. Thaddius Blakk did not permit children in his Citadel out of principle, and so was unaccustomed to their presence. The pair of dark blue eyes that peered at him suddenly and silently over the front end of the desk startled him to actually jump a bit, trying to hide it by sitting upright against the back of his chair.

The silence that followed the acknowledgement was, for lack of a better term, awkward.

When he regained his composure at the unexpected intrusion, he addressed his impromptu visitor. A single drumming of the claws of one hand with a simple, "Yes?"

A pair of small hands grasped the edge of the desk, the eyes looking away. Perhaps nervous before Xerxes spoke; the old Pseudobane was an intimidating figure to approach, flesh and blood or not. "Uhm … I'm hungry…"

A brow quirked on the elder's face. "Why not ask your mother. I have business to attend."

"Mom's asleep…" was the small and sheepish answer. "And I can't find Uncle Maurice."

Even Thaddius knew better than to try to wake the woman in question, and with her being four months into her second pregnancy, it could only make the reaction worse. Best to leave that one alone unless it was a dire emergency. He had sent Maurice out to another cavern earlier that morning, and so it was only logical that his right-hand would have left the child behind; cavern-scouting was never a place for a boy of Xerxes' age.

"Well, that is a predicament." A glance was given to his plugged tablet, logging the current time on the screen mentally. "Right. It is about lunchtime anyway."

He was reaching for the tablet again when the boy asked,"Are we eating in the office today?"

There was something strange and almost contagious about the pent joy glittering behind those blue eyes, one that made the industrialist pause. "…How does Uncle Maurice do it?" If there was a set routine, Thaddius did not want to break it.

Xerxes shifted a bit, obviously thinking. Although he thought beyond his years, he was still five and had to take some time to formulate his speech properly. "We eat in the kitchen if we're close … but usually, he orders for here because he has to work from here."

The elder nodded slowly, reaching for the tablet again. "Then it looks like we're ordering in." He pulled the entire setup, dock and all, toward him and worked on getting to the kitchen extension. A break and something to eat was likely better for his work ethic, anyway. "Have a seat down in front of the window; we'll take lunch there."

There was that sparkle in those eyes again as the boy turned around to run toward the designated location. He tripped once over the rug set down to mark a central path against the dark tile, falling flat on his face before picking himself up and continuing on otherwise undeterred.

Thaddius chuckled a little under his breath at the antic before finally putting the call ahead to the kitchens, having them bring both his usual and learning through them his soon-to-be-eldest son's favored meal. Sliding the tablet back to its spot, he carefully pulled himself to stand, balancing against the cane. Progression across the room was steady, but he made it to a proper seat in front of the window, settling down against it near the child. It would take some time getting used to the movements required for the cane, but he knew that using it was a lesser worry as it would come to him better with time.

The larger obstacle was sitting next to him, with twinkling eyes and unexpectedly infectious energy. He would be considerably harder, but Thaddius had always particularly enjoyed a challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a headcanon that Thaddius' start as a father was particularly awkward, as Xerxes was used to Mom and Uncle and Dad was kind of injected in later and is perfectly terrifying to behold to a young child [or anyone not used to his Pseudobane'd self, for that matter].
> 
> But, when Mom is busy and Uncle can't be found and he really does need something, Xerxes' first instinct is to approach Dad. And Dad's first instinct with a child is to be as awkward as possible; he's trying to outdo his father in the paternal department, so he at least knows he's doing a lot better than Harleney. This also serves as Thad learning that there's a bit more to his eldest than originally thought…


	4. A Lesson in Extortion and Blackmail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thaddius shares an important life lesson with his eldest son.

Crinkling of paper, wrapped tight around a specific book he had noticed her staring longingly at some small time ago. Red-ringed gaze scanned the package carefully, making certain nothing on it was out of place, final fold and securing the last corner.

"It's not her birthday, you know."

Attention diverted, small scrape of a claw's tip across the flimsy covering rending it with a small hole and a scowl of frustration. A pair of blue eyes stared at him from over the far edge of the desk. Xerxes was growing steadily bolder the older he became. Was this what he had to look forward to when his second, infant son came of mobile age? He wasn't looking forward to it.

With a small grumble, Thaddius started again, meticulous smoothing and folding and securing the covering for the gift once more. "I am aware, Xerxes."

"So ... why are you giving Mom a present?"

The boy was young and did not quite understand the idea of giving things for fun, particularly to those one felt certain affections for. "Your mother has had a rough few months. She deserves something for her troubles, don't you think."

Familiar abyssal gaze stared at the wrapped book once more. "Oh." The younger soon returned his attentions to his father's face. "Is it supposed to be a surprise?"

"I would prefer it be such, yes." The answer was considerably more strained than he was expecting.

"Okay." A pause, studious. "...What'll you give me to keep it secret?"

Movement ceased, that red-rimmed green moving from the gift toward the boy. Surprise laced his features at it, obviously unsure at first how to answer such a brash statement. There was perhaps a small twinge of pride, but overall shock that the child should target his own father for such bribery.

"Excuse you?" was growled out, eyes narrowing in apparent annoyance. "What do you think I would have on hand to give? I suppose, if you think yourself so adult for extortion, I could split the stock of the ... secret drawer..."

Xerxes made a face, disbelief that he would even be offered such a thing. "Dad, I'm six."

The shift in the boy caused a rumbling chuckle out of the aging Pseudobane, grasping the handle on the cane and using it and the edge of the desk to pull himself to stand. "Obviously, we have to work on those morals, don't we. Can't have _those_ getting in the way..." His mood had shifted once he had regained the upper hand from annoyance to amusement, his free hand picking up the wrapped book for transport. "Name your terms, Xerxes. Don't stutter here."

The blatant encouragement seemed to dent the boy's own pride into action. "Fine. I won't tell Mom if ... you sit down and watch a Max Jackson movie with me."

The scoff that left the old industrialist came out an awkward mix of noises in amused frustration. "I can never understand how it is that you enjoy that drivel."

He left the office, heading for the apartment on-site with Xerxes in tow. "I'm six. What's your answer? I tell Mom? Or we watch Max Jackson?"

"Unusually perceptive for a six-year-old, aren't you." Another snort. "I suppose, for now, I am stuck keeping you company, if it keeps your mouth shut."

While Thaddius could have continued the fight as a teaching mechanism for his heir to use more frequently in his life, he decided that just for a glimpse of her smile again, he could surrender to the boy. Just this once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A prompt given by DragonEyeFan on here.


	5. Needlework

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xerxes anticipates the arrival of his new sibling, in the only way he knows how.

_In and out.  
In and out._

The needle pulled through the fabric with little effort, laying lines of dusty rose across a soft canvas of aged cream. It had been a long while since she had set foot in the nursery, not since Xerxes had grown up enough to require a room of his own outside of it.

The rocking chair moving beneath her made a faint creaking noise. It was a bit old-fashioned, but she preferred the older wooden chair to anything modern. There was a certain charm to it that could not be replicated by one of the more modern rockers.

Another row of stitches, fanning out to give depth and dimension to the petals of the extravagant flowers slowly coming to life on the fabric.

Bangles, baubles, and rings had been removed a few months prior from wrists, ankles, and fingers when the joints had begun to swell. It made it harder to walk and balance, the debilitating ankles already put under strain even without the babe growing in her.

The bump was more than prominent now, protruding from between the midriff bodice and low-slung skirts of the _saree_ she had switched to, keeping covered with a veil of heavier opaque fabric and more pronounced drape while out in public. Here though, in the privacy of the nursery, she had left the veil to the side, leaving the curved belly to the open air. The temperature was controlled and she rarely felt uncomfortable due to it.

Chill little hands appeared from nowhere, lightly touching the bump and causing her to visibly jump and stop rocking out of habit. Already being a mother of one, she knew that there was no threat, only Xerxes. At an age of almost six, he was a little terror on his own, but certainly nothing malevolent toward his mother and unborn sibling. Carefully, she tilted the embroidery up just enough until she was greeted with eyes like her own, sparkling and curious, from under the bottom edge.

"I just wanted to see if it was moving…" he stated sheepishly, pulling back a bit at his mother's reaction.

She hummed, setting her project to one side, leaning forward a bit and beckoning. He took it readily, scrambling up into her lap. With a little help, he was soon situated properly across one thigh, leaning against her shoulder to one side. "It hasn't moved for a vhile, but babies are strange zat vay. It vill move ven it feels like it, I'm sure."

His eyes lit up, looking up into hers. "You think I can feel it soon?"

His excitement at being an older brother was contagious, the grin spreading across his face causing his mother to smile back at him. "If you stay put, right here und out of trouble, I'm sure you'll be here for ze next time."

At first, Xerxes was a ball of energy, practically vibrating in his spot as though his sitting still would end the world. He had questioned everything, and under his mother's guidance, helped her pull the thread through on her embroidered flowers. He was completely unaware when she began to rock the chair again. Even at six years, the subtle motion was enough to make him tired and War found herself settled with her elder son napping comfortably against her. It was not long for her to follow in his example, noting with some small amusement that even in a lack of energy Xerxes was contagious, leaning back in the chair to fall asleep with him.

Neither one noticed the monolithic form shadowing the doorway with a vigilant stare, a flare of soft red light emanating from it the only illumination in the hall beyond the nursery door. The click of claws against metal betrayed the guardian, as if there were any doubt to its identity. Regardless of whether mother or son were aware of it, Thaddius was keeping watch while they slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Best bud, Brig, dropped this on me one night in a Skype call.


	6. Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thaddius and his wife welcome the newest edition to their family.

He had not realized how tired she had become until this moment, with the dark bags beneath her eyes and labored breath rendered hoarse. It seemed almost strange after so long to see the lump at her midriff disappearing steadily on its own. Its absence made her look small and fragile after so long of it being there, settled back against the sterile bed that had been utilized. She wasn't so, that much he knew already and this only solidified how resilient and utterly stubborn the woman was. Anyone who could expel another living creature into the world from their own body and come out of it still beating was indeed a force to be reckoned with.

He could certainly appreciate that.

It showed with his usual stoic silence but extending the hand not grasping the cane to rest carefully against one flushed cheek. She tensed just barely beneath his touch, but relaxed within the next moment. It drew a quirk of a smile to his face, realizing the comfort of his presence amid the bustle of a multitude of strangers working to clean and mend every inch of her that needed it. A rock, a fond familiarity. None would try anything wrong with the towering Pseudobane present, and so she finally surrendered if temporarily to a semi-conscious relax.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, as he watched her eyes droop in exhaustion, he made a mental note to thank Maurice later. The man had answered above and beyond the call of duty, twice now. Thaddius had no experience in childbirth, much less understanding the Prussian's odd quirks of refusing standard medical care. With the memory of Xerxes' birth, Maurice had taken over the arrangements immediately and as a result, both sons had been born beneath the towering vaults of their father's legacy in a means their mother was most comfortable. Even now, he was watching over the rambunctious elder to allow the boy's parents time to acquaint properly with their new addition.

Preparations were completed timely, leaving the pair alone for a few moments. By then, she had properly evened back out, her breathing steady and the flush of exertion fading back to the usual ivory. He drew his hand back on seeing her hit full rest, putting it back over the other on the cane and resuming his careful vigilance of those vitals he could see. So long as she continued breathing, he wouldn't worry too much.

The sound of door hydraulics reached his ears, but it was the small huffing noises that followed it what caught the old industrialist's attention. Head turned as he straightened himself, red-ringed green falling first on what he recognized as one of the nurses who had been present, then on the small bundle of blankets she carried in her arms from where the tiny noises issued from.

The girl looked up, first at him, and then to the slumbering Prussian. A small smile was afforded them, her gaze returning to Thaddius as she addressed him; it was likely a response to his role as the head of the company than it was anything else.

"Congratulations. You have a son."

He had prepared himself for this moment since that first day he knew the second child had been conceived. He had told himself over and over that this would change nothing in who he was, or in his demeanour. And while he outwardly showed a sort of smug satisfaction at the announcement, a small twinge tugged at him as that realization hit:

_You are father to a son…_

It sent a shiver through his system, of an emotion he was not quite familiar with. Certainly, Xerxes was the first, and there was a sense of pride in knowing that the elder boy was also of his blood. But there was something else with the knowledge of the second son, having been present to receive the child into this world personally. Pride was there, but something else was too, something he couldn't quite explain. It merged with that which he knew, personified in a loft of his head and a sly smile spreading slowly across his face.

Movement drew him from his musings, head turning to spy something he had not expected at this point. War had snapped awake as though rising from the dead with the entrance of the other. Abyssal gaze was centered on the wrapped bundle, sharp still above the bags evident of fatigue. Her arms reached forward, her voice croaking to life like a revenant.

"G-gif me … mein son."

There was no argument, the young woman moving forward to offer the newborn to his demanding mother and backing away as soon as the Prussian had wrapped her arms around him and drawn him close to her. She sat back once she had him, staring pointedly at the one who had brought him to her. A glance was given toward the boy's hulking father, and a small nod was her cue to leave.

"I'm sure she knows how to tend the child, and herself." he assured. "If anything more is needed, I will be certain to make you aware."

The nurse returned the nod, but said no more and exited quickly to leave both parents to properly acquaint with their child. When he was certain they were perfectly alone, Thaddius made his way to a chair on the side of the bed, settling onto it before flopping back with all the grace of a beached whale. He had been standing for so long at that point that his bad hip cracked audibly as he let it relax.

War rested back once she had reassured herself in her own silent way that they were finally alone, proceeding in comfort to nurse her quietly distressing son. It remained silent for some time, save for the occasional creak of chair or bed with the careful shiftings of either parent.

Thaddius broke the silence, rolling forward with a surprising amount of grace to his feet, resting automatically on the cane before stalking closer to the bed and gently easing himself on its edge. The newborn had finished his first meal, cleaned and brought up for burping, his mother settling back carefully.

Thaddius reached forward to brush one of her loose inky locks from her face and even though she was aware of him, her eyes snapped up. Her gaze was sharp and alert, if still obviously fatigued. Still, she showed no opposition to his move to remove the obstruction of that abyssal glare, simply offered a tired smile and looked away once she felt the gas bubble lifted in her son's stomach. She rubbed his back before looking back up to the boy's father, catching sight of that rare calm smile the Pseudobane sported now.

"Marius, yes?" he asked, voice low. With only a nod as his answer, he chuckled, pridefully lofting his head. "Good. It's a good name."

"…He is much quieter zan his brot'er vas." Her voice was still rough and croaking; it made him purse his lips a bit. She would speak smoother once she was fully recovered.

Marius had started to make some small noises against his mother's shoulder, though they didn't have any rhyme or reason. Thaddius reached forward and lightly rubbed the fingertips of his left hand against the newborn's head, minding the pointed claw-like nails.

Her son, _his_ son.  
Theirs.

There was a certain satisfaction in knowing that this small squirming bundle was a part of him and of the proud woman who had bore him into the world. Carefully, Thaddius leaned forward, placing a peck to her forehead.

"You've come through it well. Though there was never any doubt." he told her before sighing. "Best get some rest now while you can. There is a certain … _gremlin_ who I'm sure will be in here once he gets bored of Uncle Maurice."

The grated chuckle that was given him brought that unusual soft smile back to his face. "…I gif him two minutes." she replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right on cue, they're inundated with six-year-old Xerxes in all his rambunctious Xerxes glory in the time predicted.
> 
> Have Thaddius coming to terms that he is actually a father, not just a father figure. I mean, he was actually here for the youngest. He was only around for the fun part with Xerxes. Though he could argue that scaring the crap out of the boy on returning was also fun.  
> …thad's kind of an ass to his eldest, it's any wonder where he got it from.


	7. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius has a bad dream, prompting Dad to come check on him.

The first thought on Thaddius' mind with the first screech of terror was that maybe he wasn't cut out to be a father. This was the fourth time in a week and just once, he wanted to sleep a good night's sleep without want or need to murder one of the children.

The next thought was the obvious, wondering what time it was this time. All he caught was a large red '3' staring at him from the clock nearby. This was cause for low grumbling in mild irritation, though he rolled over anyway, searched for the cane, found and grasped it before using it to stabilize himself up.

Normally, he would have nudged his Prussian into wakefulness to handle it, but she had come down with something or another and was having a hard time breathing without sniffling. She had been feverish all night and to be honest, he didn't want her infecting the youngest, despite prior thought.

He knew already that was who was screaming; Xerxes had been the propagator of the virus that wracked both him and his mother and as a result, he was drugged into sleep to try and fight it. So far, the eldest had not even snapped awake with fever-dreams, unlike his mother, who had been twitchy and whimpering off and on since she finally settled to sleep.

Distinct clacking shuffle preceded the aging Pseudobane's progress in the direction of Marius' room, the door sliding open with a light airy sound. Sure enough, the boy had managed to partially rip the blankets and sheets from the bed in his escape from whatever demons tormented him. He had pushed himself as close to the back corner of his bed, as far from the edge as his little mind would allow him to feel safe.

Small sigh left the elder as he entered and readied for the onslaught. It was not so much that the boy may attach to him, but moreso the … language barrier. As expected, once those familiar green eyes stared up at him, Marius started firing off. The only word Thaddius really understood in the string was 'Papa'. The rest of it was construed as gibberish passed his fatigued mind, the boy's mother's native tongue slipping over the airwaves and punctuated by the occasional hiccup.

A brief mental kicking ensued over his continued stalling of learning the damned language passed the very bare basics. It was biting him now, for certain. Marius, sensing his father's hesitation, went silent save for his fit of hiccups. Thaddius' lips pursed momentarily, trying to assess the situation without understanding a word. He ended up focusing more on the hiccups; now that, he knew he could handle.

Careful bending at his waist was given, in an attempt not to irritate his busted hip more than it had been tonight, his free arm opened toward the child. "Come on, now. A glass of water will take care of those…"

There was a moment's pause out of the boy, but he soon took the offer, crawling with a fervor toward his father's open arm. "Vasser…"

Red-ringed gaze narrowed momentarily, but he scooped his youngest close to him anyway, hobbling out of the den of horrors, if briefly. "Yes. That."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from princeofmints.  
> Wanted Thaddius trying to comfort a screaming spawn.


	8. Hide and Seek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some days, it's strictly endless work. Others, work should happen, but doesn't.

Clack of the cane echoed down the hall, a steady rhythm that allowed anyone within the vicinity to hear the monolith stalking down the corridor. It alerted them to move out of his way, though greetings were still offered to the Pseudobane as he made the usual trek toward the office, returned with little more than a nod of his head.

The lock disengaged in the door leading to his destination, airy **whush!** of the panels sliding apart to offer him no hindrance a familiar sound. Once over the threshold with the door closed and locking audibly behind him, the industrialist concentrated on the open area between the massive pillars of the room. Red-ringed eyes flared momentarily, clawed fingers around the head of the cane tapping across it as though in thought.

Staggered gait was resumed as he made his way slowly, methodically, between pillars to the open space, looking around cautiously as though expecting something to finally hinder him. Eyes kept constant vigilance in his movement, making sure that the cane was heard reverberating around the cavernous room.

That was when he caught movement, a glimpse of a shadow under the edge of the desk in the back shift just how shadows were not supposed to. Eyebrow quirked at it, though he did little else about it outside squaring himself off and continuing through the space between him and the desk. Cautiously now, though the cane still made a sharp noticeable noise with every strike to the floor.

Rounding the desk, eyes cast downward just enough to catch sight of what looked like an elbow sticking out, just barely. Pull the chair back, sink slowly into the cushy confines, and sigh. All that before he bent over and looked beneath the desk, in the leg alcove, his free hand stabilized on the top of the desk.

A pair of blue eyes stared up at him from the dark. Clawed fingers tapped on the top of the desk, a blazing glow illuminating the inky black in faint red for a brief minute. The silence that followed was heavy, even for those few moments before Xerxes broke it.

"...If I tell you where Marius is hiding, will you pretend I'm not here?"

Eyebrow quirked upward on Thaddius' face at the offer. "As tempting as that is, this is not how the game is played, Xerxes."

Amused rumble left the industrialist before the hand on the desk moved, reached under and forward to lightly snatch the boy's arm. Xerxes squealed, though it devolved into a series of giggles as he was pulled out willingly from beneath the desk, waiting patiently for his father to stand again.

"You can, however, show me where he is and I may forgo looking for you first next time."

Counter-offer, on the table and open for scrutiny, which the nine-year-old did scrutinize if only for a fast moment. "...He's under the bathroom sink."

Such devious nature in the boy, not even out of his single digits yet. He was learning, and fast. While his father followed him out of the room and through to the back where their destination lay, some part of him was growing a small metaphoric seed of pride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More from princeofmints.
> 
> After discussions about Thad's portrayal in a lot of fanfiction, he came up with this idea that the tall stoic villain would more or less be playing hide-and-seek with his children.


	9. Heimweh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Mama is feeling homesick, Marius does everything he can to help. Including roping his elder brother and exhausted father into the mess.

The Day of Hearts.

Most of Slugterra was celebrating the romance-driven holiday. A time to purportedly spend time with one's affectionate affiliations, of both the romantic and the platonic sorts.

Thaddius would have normally passed the holiday by in his younger years than to pay it mind, a detrimental aspect to his own goals and ambitions. Many years had been spent working through it without stop, but recent developments had given him cause to put such workings on momentary pause and consider the day for what it stood for. One of those reasons were standing in front of him right at the moment, spawn born of him who had dragged the old Pseudobane from his seemingly endless pile of notes and general paperwork with a proposition.

"We wanna do something for Mom." Xerxes had stated, causing Thaddius to sigh and look at him over the top of the latest project reports for a new line of Slugterranean Express engines, potential monstrosities of steel and pure raw power for hauling larger and larger freight.

"Don't sugarcoat it, Xerxes. You simply want to use me to buy some inane thing for your mother to 'prove I love her' or some ... other such childishness." the industrialist grumbled, drumming claws against the desk with his free hand.

Xerxes glowered and leveled his gaze into his father's. He was trying to be intimidating by presence alone, which was probably the most comical thing he had ever seen the ten-year-old do. "For your information, it's Marius' idea."

"Marius doesn't speak English, you don't speak nor understand German. How could he possibly convey whatever idea he has to you." There was a low chuckle on Thaddius' voice at that, something deviously knowing as though he believed he had caught the boy dead in his plans.

There was a small amount of surprise as the eldest scrambled up on his father's desk to drop a crude yet accurately-drawn picture of the concept in mind in the Pseudobane's hands, on top of the stack of papers he was already looking through. "He does have other ways of saying what he wants, you know."

Red-ringed gaze snapped up from the younger child's doodle to Xerxes. "I know where you sleep." The usual threat from him when the eldest in particular was overstepping his bounds, giving him passive-aggressive sarcasm. It did its job, in the way Xerxes ducked his head a bit downward and resuming a more respectful air. "So. You two want to do this. Any specific reasons as to why I should fund this ... escapade?"

" _Mutter hat Heimweh_."

There was a moment of pause, two pairs of eyes looking toward the youngest with no small confusion. Marius looked between his brother and his father before running forward and struggling to pull himself up on the desk. Papers scattered, Thaddius let out a ragged sigh as carefully placed stacks were knocked over or thrown to the floor in the younger Blakk's attempt to join his elder brother.

Eventually, he made it up, refusing help from his brother as though to say ' _I can do it too_ '. Snatching the picture from his father with no resistance, he reached for a pen from a collection in one corner of the desk, and scrawled on the back of the picture _Babil_ in the poor penmanship expected of a child his age.

" _Heimweh, heimweh. Heimwehkrank._ " He used the pen to point at the word, tapping it with every repeat of the word.

Thaddius snatched the pen from his youngest without a word, turned the page, and wrote an _e_ in place of the _i_ , then handed the pen back. He still hadn't understood the word presented or its correlation to War's native cavern system, but the drawn concept seemed fairly solid regardless.

The plans were put down on the desk, his now-free hand grasping the cane at his left and pulling himself to stand. "Right. Let's get this over with, shall we."

_Come to think of it, she has been a bit ... depressed lately, hasn't she..._

He knew she wouldn't show it openly. War was proud and was the consistent parental figure and wouldn't show it. But to be honest, Thaddius had noticed a distinct change in her demeanour otherwise, small details that he simply knew at this point existed. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who had noticed it, else he wouldn't be here now, trying to figure out how to remove the Outlander in question from the living room.

The majority of the afternoon had been spent 'shopping' for the necessary components of Marius' final vision, calling in a number of orders from establishments Thaddius typically wouldn't call in his lifetime. The surprise on many voices when they heard where the goods were supposed to be dropped off was proof enough of this. With those deliveries on the way, it was imperative now that the woman in question be removed from the work-space.

"I have to be here in order for this to work." Thaddius muttered in the general direction of Xerxes.

"And if I do something, she'll get suspicious." was the answer, the boy looking around the corner toward the open door as though it hid a beast that would eat him if he made a move. "She always gets suspicious..."

"You're always in trouble." the industrialist counterpointed before noticing a distinct lack of a certain German dialect. "...Where is Marius?"

Xerxes looked over his shoulder, down the hall and up it again, before shrugging. "I don't know. Thought he was right he-"

" _Ich gehe zu Mutter_." was muttered by a shorter figure what moved passed the pair, awkward in its stride.

"I don't know what he just said." Thaddius sighed, though the means in which the youngest had begun down the hall toward the dreaded door in question was slowly piecing together something of what it could mean.

Xerxes shrugged, oblivious at the moment to his younger brother's plots and plans. "I don't either."

Marius had disappeared into the room, his little voice meek and questioning, followed by the lilting voice of his mother in response. The exchange went back and forth for almost three minutes before the distinct click of the heel supports on the braces against the floor signified the end of it. Marius exited first, leading his mother by the hand as she swirled after him in both skirt and mane, glittering and chiming as they both made their way down the hall and out of sight.

Admittedly, a rumbling chuckle loosed from Thaddius. "The little sneak..." Red-ringed gaze was cast to Xerxes then. "Keep an eye on them, would you? Notify me if they are on their way back, or help stall."

Xerxes gave a mock salute before running around the corner after his brother and mother, Thaddius gone from the area in the next instant to handle the technicalities of his youngest son's gift to his mother.

* * *

The set-up took considerably less time than expected, something Thaddius was happy for. The coordinator for one of the florists involved being present certainly helped speed things along once the childish concept had been handed off as reference. Keeping things going and in order was key and what would have taken the industrialist hours to complete took the finely-ordered teams little under a half hour.

He was especially pleased with the speed when the tablet at his hip beeped at him as soon as he had seen to appropriate payments and farewells. He didn't have to look to know who it was, but he did anyway. Xerxes letting him know that the party was heading in his direction.

Sure enough, as soon as the tablet was placed back in its holder, his eldest came through the door, turning to the elder. "They're coming."

"I received the message." Weight shifted to his good leg, cane extended to flick off the central lighting before clacking back down directly next to him. "Stand right ... here."

The time it took to hear the echoing Germanic tones down the hall felt almost eternal. The next few moments happened slowly. The clack of the braces on the floor, the faint swish and jingling, the low murmured voices between her and her youngest son, a small conversation in their shared language as Marius very carefully lead her back into the room. As soon as she passed the threshold, she slowed down, eyes focusing on a quartet of tiered tables at the back wall as Marius quieted.

Sprigs of brilliant color in familiar foliage were placed across the steps, meticulously set in strategic locations to tie in organic lines appropriately. A small tabletop fountain rested at the wall on the higher-most table, water falling across a series of metal cups chiming with each strike; certainly not the torrential roar she was used to, but it was an accent to add. Ambient light strings were hidden among the flora, lights integrated into the fountain itself giving dancing patterns across the walls and ceiling.

Thaddius had noticed it when she walked in. Without the interference of the overhead lights, she was dim. Usually, she was bright and vibrant, but the inner light was extinguished, affecting the colors and shine off the brilliant fabrics and fine metals and gemstones what adorned her body. It set something off in him, the hand resting on the cane tightening its grip. Odd thoughts entertained his mind at that, unpleasant ones. Thoughts he liked to hear the least, reprimanding himself for something he honestly had no control over.

Xerxes twitched a bit, shifted. Attentions were drawn back to the present, red-ringed green gaze focusing on the Outlander when she turned to face him. Her dark eyes were watery, jaw floundering for a moment.

"Did ... did you..."

She couldn't finish the sentence. It fluttered on her lips like a nervous butterfly, stuttering her usually eloquent and commanding speech. Thankfully, he knew from her reaction to the display what she was trying to say, small smile to accompany the rumbling laughter given from the Pseudobane.

"Only in execution, my dear. The concept and motivation itself came from an unexpected source." Gaze was drawn down to the youngest, Marius looking upward with a small smile, though he fidgeted some with the bottom hem of his shirt. "To be frank, I was planning on doing something else with my time, but he and his brother managed to ... convince me otherwise."

Thaddius never was one for beating around the bush, more or less telling it as it was to him. For all his realism, however, he could not quite prepare for the sudden embrace from the woman, deceptively dainty arms wrapped about his shoulders. He took it in stride, carefully wrapping his free arm around her to hold her close, resting his chin on the top of her head.

He had only seen her cry once before, a moment of vulnerability in a time of turmoil for her. He felt her cry now, quietly, against him. It didn't feel distressed, and so didn't distress him as the last time had.

She slipped from him after whispered thanks to him, bending to take hold of her children in close embraces, Xerxes verbally asking if she was alright. Perhaps it was the flickering of the ambient light from the small display of her homeland, dancing across the metals what adorned her, but in the moment her sons had simultaneously wished her well for the day, Thaddius was almost certain he saw the vibrancy returning.

She was glowing again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A prompt I did for V-Day one year.


	10. TV Lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Work [and a really bad movie] finally take its toll.

The lack of noise was almost concerning.

No more than a half hour ago, she had heard the blaring of the speakers, playing through the latest home edition of some Max Jackson film or another. The boys were really into that franchise and frequently dragged their father off to go watch it, much to the older Pseudobane's chagrin.

Outlander had concentrated her efforts instead to paperwork. More specifically, editing it so that it was synonymous with certain reports and lists. Thaddius hadn't been sleeping well due to a consistent stream of nothing but corporate work and in the spirit of keeping things in order, War had taken to make sure that every bit of information was put together so that everything came out correctly. It wouldn't do to have the industrialist finally get some sleep and look over almost three weeks of budget reports only to find out none of it matched up and had to be redone again.

When she had left, the boys had dragged their father haplessly along with them to 'relax'. If she knew Thaddius in any way, he had sat with them, put the movie on, and continued working. But now, there was silence. No whispered calling to her to help put the children to bed, no loud obnoxious movie noises of which she was almost certain she had heard the credits go by anyway. Nothing.

Silence.

There was no indication that anyone was actually in any threat to their well-being, so she took her time to finish the last of what was in her hand before standing up to go and check on the three of them in the dark lounge nearby. Swirl of silk, click of the braces against the floor where the carpet didn't cover the stone tile, easy enough to alert anyone to her presence. She did not even receive a grunt of acknowledgement out of Thaddius, though turning the corner to face him showed why.

She shouldn't have been worried to begin with, she realized, staring at the picture before her with a hint of adoring amusement. Xerxes and Marius had huddled along one side of their father, resting against one another beneath the elder's broad arm. Thaddius? Had also drifted off for once and seemed at relative peace, the tablet that had not been far from his grip lately resting off-kilter over his face, head tilted back on the rise of the couch.

She had to do this carefully, moving toward the picturesque nap and reaching for the tablet threatening to fall off the larger industrialist's face. Fingers balanced its frame enough to pull it up and set it aside so no harm would come to it. The throw piled in one corner of the couch was unfolded, the television screen flicked off.

It had been a long few weeks, such that she had started missing him. The opportunity was given, she would take it. With a gentle flop, she was next to him on his unoccupied side, pulling the throw around him, the kids, and herself. Thaddius stirred a bit, cracked one eye open drowsily, and moved his arm on her side to accommodate her sudden presence better. She took the cue, Outlander slipping against him once the blanket was situated properly. His arm draped across her, a tired noise escaping him as though welcoming her to the pile of her boys.

She settled in, relaxed, and soon enough drifted to sleep with him, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing in one ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More from princeofmints.  
> Wanted Thad passed out with the kids while movie watching.


	11. Rehabilitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> War is no longer War, and needs her future husband's help to remember this.

He had never thought he would have a harder time telling anyone ' _no_ '. It was harder than others with her, especially when he knew she was happy.

It was for her own good, he kept telling himself. The thought caused him to draw his lips thin. She had openly asked for his intervention, he kept reminding. It didn't stop him feeling … honestly pretty horrible. No one he ever had contact with ever made him feel regret as much as she did. Only because he had to tell her 'no'.

It caught in his throat the first time he tried, her hand reaching for a bolt of fabric; pale gold with vibrant red motif. Her expression soft, serene. Familiar to the colors displayed, a muscle memory he knew.

_She wants to be rehabilitated, you have to say it._

It still caught the second time, and in his frustration, he turned instead to physical cues. For himself, to spurn that word into proper action. Wrench it from the tethered confines in his chest. Something he used more for emphasis on a regular basis than he did anything else. The cane struck the floor, a sharp metallic ping tearing away the anchors that held it back.

"No."

Simple, flat. No emotion and stern, like speaking to a child who wants something they can't have. It did its job; she turned from the attempt, looking straight at the hulking industrialist. His posture remained firmly in place, a monolith over all around him.

Her hand withdrew from its intended target, a dart of her eyes away from him in silent realization of why he had stopped her. He could read her face better than anyone, saw the glaze fading from her eyes as it hit. War was prideful, even if she wasn't War anymore, and wouldn't openly show her distress or mistake. Once she had moved a sufficient distance from the bolt she had been drawn to, he busied himself with looking to the rack on his right.

"You should accentuate your best feature on your wedding day." It came out more curt than he was hoping, attempting to smooth it a bit with the addition. His free hand reached and pulled a small bit of fabric from a bolt what stood out; rich dark blue. "In your case, your eyes."

She walked toward him, he held the fabric to her face and contemplated a moment before offering a smug smile.

"Perfect."

That small twinkling laugh of hers was offered him for the praise before her eyes lit up and she reached up for the bolt above the one proffered. "How about zis one."

Less of a question, more of a demand, but he wouldn't deny her the right to it; still the dark blue with a faded silver motif, just light enough to be seen against it. He smoothed the one in his hand down politely and lifting the other to feel the hand and weight of it.

"You prefer this one, Fae?"

She gave a short curt nod and it drew a small smile from him. Her response to her name after the first time. She was making progress; a few weeks ago, he had to repeat her name several times before calling her title.

He smoothed the fabric down again, making note of the identification number on the side of the rack and offering his free arm to her. "Well then. Let's see about making you that dress."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brigandine brought up Thad helping War rehabilitate after she passes the title, and I had to write for it…


End file.
